Wicked Legend
by Shatterdoll
Summary: Alfred F. Jones inexplicably finds himself center point in a chain of urban legends. Horror rising with each incident, he must find a way to break the cycle before one ends in his grisly demise.
1. Tapping

Hey everyone~ Sorry I've been M.I.A. lately. I went through a rough patch with mild medical issues and school but the worst of it is behind me now. I intend to be updating one of my ongoing stories in the very near future! A couple if I can manage it.

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><p><strong>Tapping<strong>

The air was crisp, wafting out in great puffs as Alfred breathed. It reminded him of the days when he had pretended to smoke using twigs on cold autumn mornings before he'd started with actual cigarettes. Pretending to be a dragon was more fun but that was something he still did.

All of the lights were off at the house and his keys jingled overly loud as he tugged them from his pocket. Once the door was open he paused, listening. The house was quiet. Mattie and dad had probably already gone to bed. He locked the door behind him, kicking his shoes off and wincing as one hit the wall with a thump. The house seemed to hold its breath along with Alfred. When Arthur didn't come down to yell at him for coming home so late Alfred relaxed.

A clicking sound made him pause until a golden Labrador came padding into the room. Quiet as always, particularly strange for a dog. Everyone said it made him useless but Alfred still loved him. The dog whined softly, wagging his tail. Alfred grinned and walked forward to pet his head. "Hey Charles. You're such a good boy, not giving daddy away! Come on, let's go to bed."

Making his way up to his room with Charles walking close behind, Alfred didn't even bother undressing as he collapsed into bed. Charles settled at the bottom of the bed, keeping his feet warm. Instead of falling straight asleep he found himself tossing and turning. Frustrated, he stared up at the ceiling, winding the two tangled chains he wore around his neck. Their heavy pendents felt weighty on his chest. This sucked, there was no reason he shouldn't be able to sleep.

Alfred turned towards the wall, blinking at it for a moment. He reached over and started to tap a rhythm against it. _Shave and a haircut. _Chances were Matthew was already asleep and wouldn't complete it. There was a pause of silence. As he'd figured. He'd just started to turn over when there was a faint tap tap: _Two bits_.

So Matthew was up! Alfred smiled and started to tap something new. It was a game they'd started when they had first gotten their own rooms. Lonely without each other's company but not willing to admit it, they'd started to tap back and forth to one another at night. They had even learned Morse code but these days their 'banter' generally consisted of trying to outdo one another with complicated patterns they tapped out. Sometimes it was repeat games, sometimes they had to finish what the first one started, at other times they just had to top the other. It was something they still hadn't grown out of even though it happened less frequently as they got older.

As the time crawled into almost an hour and their tapping became more and more intricate, Alfred found himself growing sleepy. He tapped out one final tune then let his hand fall away. Matthew tapped back and the room fell silent. Alfred was just about to fall asleep when the tapping came again. He frowned softly, tugging his covers up. A pause of silence usually sufficed as telling the other they were done playing.

Alfred ignored his brother and closed his eyes again. The tapping continued. Eyes opening to glare at the wall, Alfred grunted and tapped three times. They were slow, loud, and spaced out. That was their definitive way to let the other know they were done. It had been for a long time, almost since they first began. It should have stopped the tapping. It didn't.

Charles lifted his head, whining softly then letting out a soft huff and lowering his head again. Alfred could have gotten up to tell his brother that it was seriously time to stop but he was lazy and warm and overly irritated. Struggling with his jean pocket, Alfred tugged his cellphone out and dialed 'Mapleface'. It went directly to voice mail. Snorting in annoyance, Alfred dialed 'Dad' instead.

The phone rang a few times and then a peevish voice answered, "Do you even know what bloody time it is young man? If you're not dying in an alleyway somewhere I'll kill you myself!"

"Dad," Alfred immediately began to whine. "Matthew won't stop tapping on the wall and I'm trying to sleep. Make him stop!"

"Do you think you're being cute? Funny? Well you're not! Matthew isn't even here. You really thought that would work on me? Even if he was I'd expect you to take care of it yourself. You're not a child for God's sake! Now go to bed!"

Arthur hung up abruptly. Alfred was frozen in place, cellphone pressed to his ear. His teeth clenched together so hard it sent a dull ache through the left side of his jaw. A single sentence replayed itself again and again in his mind.

_Matthew isn't even here._

Eyes wide, Alfred dared not turn his gaze anywhere but straight up at the ceiling. And all night long until the pre-dawn hours there was a faint _tap tap tap _against the wall.


	2. Tongues

Hey everyone. I've been suffering some pretty bad writer's block lately. I'm going to be trying a few exercises to try and break through it. Thanks for the patience and know that nothing is abandoned.

Warnings: Brief disturbing imagery and potentially upsetting content.

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><p>No one would believe him. No matter what Alfred did or said, neither his dad nor brother would believe that someone had been tapping on the wall. The morning after the incident Alfred had gathered his courage to check out his brother's room, tentatively pushing the door open. There was no one inside, the bed neat and showing no signs of disturbance. A quick glance in the closet and under Mattie's bed had revealed no proof either. Still, that didn't mean that someone hadn't crept into his brother's room then slipped out sometime in the morning.<p>

After telling Arthur about it, the man had scoffed with nothing short of disbelief and irritation. "That again? What is it with you and this joke? I really don't find it amusing in the least. Your brother was out. No one was in his room. Stop inventing stories and put more energy into your schoolwork."

When Matthew showed up later that day, Alfred immediately grabbed him and told him what had happened. His twin regarded him with thinly veiled skepticism. When Alfred tried to insist upon it, Matthew finally told him that he had probably been dreaming.

Put out that his family refused to believe him, even though they should have put their faith in him more than anyone, Alfred had confided in his best friend Kiku. That was a mistake in of itself. Kiku was a very pragmatic person and came up with a variety of practical things it could have been. When those didn't satisfy Alfred, the other boy then went to what most would consider the most unlikely cause.

"If what you say is true, then perhaps it was some sort of spirit."

Alfred's heart seemed to miss a beat and he squirmed on his bed, hugging his pillow tighter. He clenched the phone in his hand a little tighter. "Wait, by spirit do you mean... Do you mean a ghost? Oh my god, Kiku, do you think a ghost is trying to kill me? Oh no, what should I do? I can't handle ghosts, man!"

Kiku sighed on his end. "I am not necessarily saying that it is a ghost. If you are sure it happened, a paranormal occurrence could explain it."

Alfred moaned miserably, letting his head hit against the wall miserably. "I hadn't even really thought about that! I was thinking some sort of crazy guy, but not a ghost! I think I'd prefer the crazy guy!"

"Do not be so ridiculous, Alfred. It would be far more sensible for you to want it to be a spirit. The likelihood that it could cause you harm would be far less that way."

"But Kiku," Alfred whimpered. "Ghosts are really scary!"

An incredulous note crept into Kiku's voice. "How is it that someone who wants to learn how to sky dive is so afraid of brushing with the afterlife?"

"But that's different. Dying and ghosts are not the same thing at all." Duh.

"Of course not. I have homework, Alfred. Tell me if you experience any more strange occurrences. Until then tell yourself that it was a singular abnormality in the fabric of reality."

"Uh... okay?" Whatever that meant. Wait, did that mean Kiku was ditching him? "Kiku-"

"Goodbye, Alfred." Kiku hung up.

Alfred snorted and threw his phone aside. Reaching up, he began to tug restlessly at his twisted necklaces. This really sucked. No one believed him. And now it might be a ghost. Just great.

~.

No matter what everyone said to reassure him, Alfred developed a paranoia of the tapping. Every night he expected it to start again. Matthew had thought about exploiting this, but when Alfred talked about it and got so upset he didn't have the heart to go through with it. Even if his brother deserved it.

Another strange thing that began shortly after the tapping incident was that Charles started to refuse to sleep on the bed. Alfred called him a traitor and lamented the fact that even man's best friend had betrayed him.

Unlike the others, though, Charles tried to comfort him. Even though he wouldn't sleep on the bed anymore, Charles would sleep under it. When Alfred found himself getting too apprehensive, he'd let his hand drop off of the bed and Charles would lick it without fail. Knowing at least his dog was there for him as moral support always made Alfred feel better and soon it became an essential part of getting to sleep.

One night there was a heavy rainstorm. Icy drops of water blew against Alfred's window, recreating a constant tapping pattern that had Alfred shivering. He tossed and turned, puling his blanket up high over his head. It was bad enough the storm was making it impossible to sleep. It also made the air heavy with chilly condensation.

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Alfred stuck his arm out. The difference in temperature made him shiver violently. Trying to ignore it, he let his hand hang down. There was a short pause and then he felt Charles' warm tongue on his fingers. Alfred smiled slightly, instantly calmer. He tucked his arm back into the blankets and managed to doze off for a while.

A choking sensation drew him back out of sleep. Alfred coughed and reached up. One of the pendents on the chains was digging into his neck. A grimace flashed sleepily across Alfred's face as he reached up to pull it away. A dull prickle of discomfort lingered where it had left a crescent mark in his skin.

There was no longer the heavy tapping against his window. All that remained was a mild dripping. It seemed the storm outside had calmed to something far more mild. Still, there was something more eerie about the slow, steady dripping. It was a wet, sharp sound that rang in his ears.

Perturbed, Alfred reached his hand out of the covers. The air was colder than before and goosebumps rippled up his arm. The pause was longer than usual but finally the reassuring heat of Charles' tongue licked against his hand, lapping at the crevice between his pointer and middle finger.

Satisfied, Alfred pulled his arm back under the covers, shivering lightly. The reassurance he felt after that ritual was not as strong as usual and this time Alfred could not drop back to sleep. The steady drip from the rain continued. There was something about the noise specifically that felt off, but Alfred's sleep fogged mind couldn't think of what it was.

Whenever the apprehension grew too great, Alfred would once again put his hand out of the covers so Charles could lick him. Most of the restless night continued in this way. Eventually even the dripping had nearly ceased. It was now only a very rare splatter. A thought drug itself out from a dark corner of Alfred's mind.

_Not the sound of rain on glass, but rather a raindrop hitting a larger body of water. _

That was ridiculous, though. Unless he'd accidentally left the window open or had a leak? Alfred was too tired to get up and check. Instead he reached out and allowed Charles to lick his hand one more time. Charles licked his palm and Alfred murmured something that was perhaps meant to be a, "Good boy."

Alfred tucked his arm close to his body, finally feeling that he might be able to sleep. Another vague thought surfaced, his sleepy mind barely paying it any attention before he finally fell into a deeper sleep.

_Something wrong with the tongue...?_

~.

A sharp knock pierced through Alfred's dream, chasing it off so abruptly he felt disoriented.

"Alfred! You've slept long enough! Get up immediately!" His dad gave one more sharp knock and then Alfred could hear him walking off at his usual brisk pace.

Grumbling, Alfred stretched out. The grogginess from a night without sleep left him in a dazed state for a few minutes.

Finally he yawned and pushed back the covers, rubbing his eyes as he reached over to grab his glasses. He'd swung his legs over the edge of the bed when he froze, a stricken look crossing his face. The air seemed to leave his lungs all at once, as if he'd received a hard blow to the chest. When he opened his mouth the thinnest of screams came out.

Strung up and butchered nearly beyond recognition was Charles. Beneath him was a wide puddle of blood. Every hair on Alfred's body stood on end as he made the connection that the dripping he had heard most of last night hadn't been rain at all.

Alfred's body began to tremble violently, fingers digging into his bedding as a wave of nausea rolled over him. Half sure he must be in some sort of horrific nightmare, his eyes traveled from Charles' body to the wall. Alfred's already short breaths came in hysterical gasps as he read words painted with his dog's blood.

_Humans can lick too _

The full implication of the words hit Alfred and he began to scream in earnest.


	3. Lurking

Someday I'll write something else *laughs* Aah... Thank you for your patience anyway! Hope all of you are having a wonderful holiday!

No warnings for this chapter.

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><p>After Arthur came to check on Alfred's hysterical screams the police were called and Matthew held his brother like the world was about to end. For the next few hours there was a blur of activity, officers coming that had an overly calm attitude over the situation, questions asked and answered. Had any of them noticed suspicious people or activity around the area before the incident? Did Alfred have any enemies? Potential stalkers? The answer to all three, as far as any of them knew, was no. Alfred scarcely remembered half of what had been said. The state of shock left him numb.<p>

Arthur took them to a hotel, disturbed that such a horrific thing had occurred under their roof at all. That it might have been Alfred rather than Charles perturbed him to the depth of his parental roots. It awoke a state of extreme paternity in him and he went into a hard nostalgia kick. It left Matthew feeling like he was a child again. Alfred seemed detached, sometimes breaking down into tears.

"Why would anyone want to hurt Charles? He was the sweetest dog in the world," Alfred would ask from time to time before his voice cracked and he couldn't continue.

The question left his brother and father speechless. How could they know why someone would be that sick? And quite frankly both were more afraid at the threat it posed to Alfred himself.

Despite an investigation nothing useful came up. No evidence left behind. No witnesses. No motive. The police promised that the investigation would continue but there was little to work with. Word was given out to the press both to warn the general public and to seek out further clues. It caused quite a stir in the usually sleepy town. Although there was a great deal of talk about it no leads came through. Until something fresh came up it seemed the situation was stagnant.

Feeling uneasy in their own home, the three had no choice but to go back and hope for the best. The attention brought from the story and the death of his dog was hard enough for Alfred, but the last straw was a mild inquiry that made him sick with rage. The question of whether Alfred had killed his own dog, even if it was without his being aware of it at the time.

Arthur's gentle probing to see a psychiatrist, if nothing else than to talk about the incident, was met with outright hostility. Alfred would do no such thing! He was not insane. The incident of the tapping hung heavily between them but was never directly mentioned in their arguments.

And so things gradually eased back into a strained day to day routine.

~.

Kiku's dark, flat eyes regarded Alfred's house curiously. It was the first time he'd gone over in quite a while. His mother had been convinced that the second he stepped through the door he would be chopped to bits. But Alfred was going to be alone that night for the first time since his dog was gruesomely murdered and neither Alfred nor his family felt comfortable about that. Still, somehow the fact that there was nothing visually changed about the dwelling made it somewhat disappointing.

Breath coming out in a soft puff, Kiku knocked on the door then brought his hand up to his mouth to blow on it. There was a pause and then the door opened cautiously. Once Alfred caught sight of Kiku he opened the door faster, giving a strained smile the other boy was still not used to seeing. "Hey Kiku, come in."

The other boy complied, stepping into the warmth. "Thank you for having me."

Alfred's smile became more amused. "You're seriously like the only one who would even come here anyway. Come on."

They went upstairs, pausing outside of Alfred's room. There was a slight tug of resistance in Kiku's chest as Alfred pushed the door open. As it started to swing inwards he almost cried out in protest and barely held himself back. He half-expected to see the blood still splattered on the wall. It wasn't. There was a thick layer of new blue paint.

Alfred went to the bed, pulling a pillow to himself and hugging it. "Not a bad color, right? I've been sleeping with Matthew mostly but I figure I have to sleep in my own room eventually. They, uh… Make you pay for things like painting over the wall yourself. Did you know that? I guess even in cases like suicides or murders there's no like… I dunno, I always thought there was some general service for that. Kind of fucked, isn't it?"

Kiku gazed at his friend in silence then went to the bed, sitting beside him. His hand came up and lightly touched Alfred's shoulder. "It seems like something there should be, yes. Out of respect for the dead and for those who are still alive."

Alfred nodded. Neither spoke for a few minutes. "I have the hardest time sleeping these days. Every time I shut my eyes I get this creepy feeling like someone is lurking nearby. Waiting for me to fall asleep to do something else. I figured I might as well meet my fear head on by sleeping in this room but mostly it just leads to me not sleeping very much and being sick with anxiety. Dad thinks I should go see a shrink I guess."

It was obvious to Kiku that Alfred had no desire to do so and didn't speak in favor of it, even though it would surely do him some good. "You should do what you feel is necessary for the healing process to take place."

"Stuff like that is exactly why I like talking to you, Kiku. Even if most of what you say is taking the middle ground and being obscure or whatever." Alfred smiled at him and it was the closest to his normal smile so far. "I'm really glad you came. Talking at school isn't the same thing at all."

"I'm glad to be of emotional support to you." It was all Kiku could think to say.

Alfred actually managed a laugh at that. "Like it's some kind of great honor." All traces of amusement gradually died. "You know… They questioned if I was the one that killed Charles."

"Yes. I remember you mentioned it." The words were said gently.

"I don't know how they can think that. I never would have killed Charles! I loved him! I loved him so m-much!" Alfred reached up and covered his face, shoulders shaking.

Kiku watched him uncomfortably for a moment then moved in to give him a small hug, which Alfred immediately returned on a much larger scale. Kiku stiffened then relaxed, reaching up to pet Alfred's hair awkwardly. "I know you wouldn't have. I know. You would never do something ugly like that."

The two of them remained like that for a while, Kiku waiting patiently. Alfred pulled back and seemed better for the comfort. "Sorry, man. I've just been having a really hard time with this."

"I would not worry about it Alfred. That is expected of something traumatic." Especially when they had never found who had done it.

Alfred stared at the wall again then smiled at Kiku. "I guess so… Want to go eat some cake?"

Now that was closer to the Alfred that Kiku was used to. "I would be alright with this."

Alfred's smile widened slightly and they headed downstairs. It wasn't until a few hours of much snacking and a couple of movies later that they made their way upstairs again.

"I'm telling you Kiku, there is no way you saw that ending coming." Alfred switched his light on, pausing to scan the room before entering.

"On the contrary, it was quite obvious after the first quarter of the film who the guilty party was."

"Uh huh, sure." Alfred collapsed onto his bed. There was a cold tingle at the thought of someone under it and he got off, cautiously pulling the blanket up. Nothing. Of course. He got back onto the bed trying to hide how sheepish he felt.

Kiku didn't comment, taking a seat on the floor. He in no way blamed Alfred for his behavior. He was not sure he would be able to sleep in the same room after an event like that. Alfred was either stubborn or brave. Kiku's attention was drawn to Alfred's necklaces as he began to twist the tangled chains. "I have been meaning to ask you, Alfred. Where did you get those? You wear them all the time."

"Hm?" Alfred stared at him blankly then tugged at the chains. "Oh! Yeah, I guess it's one of those things I stopped noticing I was even wearing after a while. Let's see, I found them at a thrift market thing we went to a while ago. I actually only wanted one of them but it's pretty much impossible to get them separated. I tried."

He tugged on it and the two circular pendants clanged softly. Kiku nodded. "I see. Maybe I could try for you sometime. I've been told I have very nimble fingers."

One look at his thin, delicate hands was enough to confirm that. "Sure. But for now, bed. You seriously going to sleep on the floor again? I know you're against sharing beds but it's freezing."

Kiku was very rigid about the bed issue. When Alfred came over he wasn't allowed to share Kiku's bed either, even though there was room. It just made him uncomfortable. Besides, there were things like crumbs that had to be worried about and whatnot. "It will be adequate."

"Alright, dude. Whatever works for you." Alfred readjusted his weight and started to gather up his comforter. Kiku could use it. He'd definitely need it more. Kiku watched him silently, eyes flickering down to the space under the bed. Icy fingers seemed to wrap around his throat and he couldn't utter a single sound.

Where there had been nothing previously, the space was now occupied by man in a long black and red coat. Messy blond hair rested lazily on the floor as ice blue eyes fixed on him. There was the slightest smirk as he brought a finger up to his lips in a shushing gesture. That alone was perfectly disturbing. It was not what made Kiku freeze, though. What did was the large, silver axe that the man's other hand was slowly curling around.

Kiku broke eye contact and looked up at his friend. Keeping his focus on Alfred, he stood slowly. "…Alfred, I have just remembered something. Please come with me. It will only be a moment."

Alfred tilted his head. "What, you forget something downstairs? I can wait-"

"I must insist that you come with me." There was the slightest strain in his voice but it held steady.

After a short pause Alfred shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, alright."

As he lowered his feet to the floor Kiku's heart lodged itself in his throat. He reached forward and grabbed Alfred's hand, tugging him away from the bed almost violently. Alfred started to protest and Kiku silently pulled him from the room, not stopping until they were outside.

Alfred shifted on the cold pavement, feet bare. "Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"There was someone under the bed, Alfred." Kiku turned to look at him, face lacking any color. "A man with an axe."

There was a long pause and then Alfred let out a short, humorless bark of laughter. His expression quickly became grim. "That's really not funny, Kiku."

"I am not trying to be funny. Not at all. I know what I saw. You know I would not lie to you about something like this!" Kiku's expression was frightened but insistent.

A chill went through Alfred that had nothing to do with the cold. Kiku was right, he wasn't the kind to lie or joke about that sort of thing. Their eyes slowly travelled up to his bedroom window and they stared as if waiting for something. It was Kiku who finally broke from the stupor and pulled Alfred towards a neighbor's house to call the police.


End file.
